Reflection

The Pathological Truth Journal

» Font Size «

Archive for May, 2013

At times this is so unreal. It’s worse when it does feel real.  Every time I take a step to settle everything five more issues come up.  I am developing strange and pervasive fears of the outside world.  When I try to do something fun I start crying as if the sadness were a rubber band that had snapped back to place.  It’s hard to focus on anything.  All of this is very normal.  It sucks but it is normal.

I wish I was able to grieve by sitting in the dust and wailing because I feel (rightly so) that I have been torn apart. I am missing part of everything in my life. I want my husband. I miss my husband. Most of all, I want to continue to love my husband but I can’t. Love, that infernal verb, can not be done for those who are no longer here. It isn’t that I have forgotten my husband but that I simply can’t do anything for him. So, I am left with a mountain of affection and desire that will never be fulfilled. I am left with guilt and anger and sadness. I am left with grief.

I enjoyed being a pastor’s wife. I wouldn’t have married a pastor if I didn’t. I enjoyed supporting him. I enjoyed listening to him. I enjoyed helping the congregations in what ways were appropriate to my gifts. I’m not saying I always did a great job. I know I am a human being full of faults. there were many times when I was incredibly naive. However, over all, most of the days were good and in the days that weren’t good we had one another for comfort.

Since I lost my husband I am also no longer a pastor’s wife. I have lost both the good and bad of that life. There are adjustments that need to be made and some of them are tiny while others are monumental. Even the way I address a pastor is completely different.  Some people have told me to see this as freedom.  I have fulfilled my duties and I am now free to do as I please.  Great. Except that I liked what I had.  I chose that life for many reasons.  The main reason being that it is what I wanted.  The whole situation reminds me of a queen consort whose husband dies without children.  They were simply sent back home.

So, what now?  I have no idea.

There is a small acoustic party outside with a guitarist/singer who is providing the music.  I am of the opinion that if you want to be loud outside then you should live in the country.  Your neighbors probably don’t want to hear you and if you live in a city (or apartment complex) then there is a good chance that your neighbors can and will hear your music or noise.   So, either the party people don’t care or the guitarist wants the attention.  I will be operating on the latter assumption because that’s more fun.  Here is my review of the guy playing guitar really loud next door.

I had never heard the songs he was singing before.  At least I don’t believe that I have.  It is difficult to tell from inside my apartment and about 50 feet away.  I will work off the assumption that I do not know these songs and they are not simply songs that I have heard before which are being sung in some weird rendition. 

The singer (tenor) who I think is also the guitarist has quite a set of lungs on him.  His voice definitely carries.  Unfortunately, what it carries isn’t that great.  His voice is not accurate in terms of pitch.  In fact, the pitch is so wild that I expect the singer to be signed to the Mets very soon.  The whole of his artistry is concentrated on his own unique definition of “belting” the tune.  Belting is generally used to convey some melodramatic musical theater emotional circumstance (e.g., “I am dying.” “You are dying.” “They are dead.”).  Those who know anything about musical theater know that in order to belt and not be incredibly annoying the singer must have a high degree of skill and a song that is built for melodrama.  The singer does not have either of these.  The lack of skill shows in the cracking and a forced tone in the voice.  The songs are also not of the correct subject matter. The effect comes off as someone weeping over getting pepperoni on a pizza when they wanted sausage.  The singing does receive an occasional “woo” from the audience.  Normally, this would make me think the singer is at least charismatic but I can’t see the audience.  I can’t rule out the possibility that the audience is tone deaf or drunk or filled with drunken tone deaf people.

The guitar playing isn’t terrible.  The guitar is tuned properly and there are no obvious mistakes.  That being said it also isn’t terribly interesting.  The guitar is overpowered by the loud voice.  There is nothing wrong with the guitar.  There is nothing really good about it either.  It’s just sort of there.  I am vaguely impressed that he is able to get the sound to carry as far as the inside of my apartment about 50 feet away from where the guitar is playing.  On second thought, it would have been better not to have the strumming guitar chord with the singing.  At least then the problems the voice has holding a pitch wouldn’t be as noticeable.

On the whole this has been a lackluster and rather loud performance.  I would urge those who are interested in attending this summer concert series instead watch anything else on Youtube.  You can get the same quality without having to travel all the way down here.  Perhaps by next year this act will improve but I hope I’m not here to review it.